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Lesson in a TV Dinner

When I was a student at Southwestern Adventist University, my needs were always greater than the mo…

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Sowing and Reaping

Bud was my very good friend. It didn’t quite begin that way, though. We weren’t enough alike to bec…

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Unexpected Blessings

I was asked to officiate at the funeral of a man named Charles Dillard. I didn’t know why his famil…

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A Very Rich Would-Be Runaway

I couldn’t shake the feeling. All week long I simply had wanted to run away. But I wasn’t 15—I was…

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All These Things

I was the pastor of the Adventist church in Meridian, Mississippi. One day we received an unusual l…

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The Loan

As a child growing up in a small Adventist church in northwestern Ohio, I heard many sermons from p…

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Faithful in That Which is Least

I was 20 years old and newly married, I moved to St. Louis, Missouri. I soon became known in the ch…

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The Healing Power of Scripture

As a young boy, my mind was quick, my comprehension high, my memory sharp. Teachers told my mother…

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The Trucker

It was one of those summer days most people dread—oven-hot and windy enough to transfer topsoil fro…

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The Day Mama Went on Strike

Sunday mornings on the farm were busy. We were either planting or canning, cutting wood for the win…

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